Fog

On The Importance of Beacons

The fog was insidious. It choked out the mountain views, veiled the black and white Holstein cows on the side of Campbell highway, blotted out the pickup truck a few hundred yards away…

The gas station sign loomed up, a gray ghost.

It’s Friday. We usually talk blind astronomy, but today’s a little different.

What it Looks Like

If you’ve never seen fog, it’s like a cotton blanket for the eyes. Try taking a pillow and holding it over your ears while you listen. The same thing happens with fog.

It’s usually a light gray color, a cloud come to earth. Depending on the density, it can make things look blurred or fuzzy, right down to practically invisible.

Fog at night makes the street lights look like they have pale orange triangles under them. Thick enough, and it can crash an airplane.

Foggy Days, Foggy World

I tend to like fog. I liked it today. It was peaceful, mysterious. The weather also matched the world. These are foggy times, folks.

In this use, it’s befuddling. Confusing. Unclear. One tries and tries to see a way forward, but the clever tricks of the mind are useless. Control dissipates, and is simply a memory of a sunny day. Who’s really the captain of the ship?

And what about those metaphorical planes crashing?

I got an email from a respected colleague today. She was wondering if I wanted to do a a lecture series on misinformation.

I drove along in the fog, pondering.

What a tricky word - misinformation.

I love how much she cares about the world, and wrote her back later with some alternative ideas. (Nothing is easy ‘round here - but perhaps easy is overrated. Narrow ways and all that.) I bet we have a good discussion about it. The ideas will filter out into a blog someday, but the ideas are still forming.

How pervasive the need for careful discussion at every turn.

My car wound through the side streets, down, down. The weather fog let up down by the river, seeming to prefer the heights. Maybe it felt more like a cloud today. I knocked on “Preacher’s” door.

(The character in Dr. Electro is based on this guy.)

Conversation

Why on earth do you want to move to a little town? some friends asked a few years ago.

“I dunno - start a book club or something.”

And today it did. Preacher had coffee. I brought the books that Hudson recommended.

We’ll be reading The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac.

The conversation drifted around - surrender, faith, art, poetry, loss, grief, bringing light to the world.

The Question

Just what are we all doing to bring light into the world? It’s awfully foggy out there.

Twitter is full of fog right now. (Well, it usually is.) Necessary fights are happening, but lots of folks are turning into the monsters they denounce.

Oh sure, it’s a monster with a righteous outrage, saving the children in the only way possible.

I can dimly see them, grappling in the fog.

“Preacher” and Hudson just started blogs. Y’all should give ‘em a follow (how’s that for small-town vernacular?)

Preacher’s is here. Hudson’s is here.

I think they bring some light. It seems like the act of seeking light/up/God translates… “Bleeds everywhere”, Preacher mentioned as I nodded, eyes wide from a second cup of coffee.

Treasures from Earth

This Friday post is written early. The morrow finds me on the road to DJ at retirement homes and dance to James Brown tunes and try my best to put my own garbage aside and really look into people’s eyes.

Now the sun has set, and the fog closes in, thicker. It’s always a good time for a Chopin nocturne.

Best wishes for a good weekend - and keep on shining, folks. It’s important.

• Josh